616 Rewind - CunninLynguists, Celph Titled, Tonedeff

Yo, first I sprinkle the verse

By addin' words, rhymes

Flippin 'em in a verse with lines

Then I’mma hit 'em disperse rhyme venom

And then I’mma split 'em in half

Feelin' my wrath

Venturin' through parts of the South so dirty

You’ll want to be given a bath

It’ll take pathological liar to deny that I’m nice

And the truth hurts (ow)

Wearin' a blue shirt the best buy for the price

To get six guys this live and nice on the mic

So don’t diss us because we’re fly

Until you try what it’s like

I’m liable to slice at these emcee bastards

Leaving their knees fractured

Needin' every piece of their teeth re-crafted

So don’t front cause I see past it

You’re harmless like Wolverine’s adamantium claws

When they’re retracted

If the scene’s backlit

Or seems static, we’ll wreak havoc

We’ll beat batter to keep rappin'

A leech battle, a dream shatterer

For three nanoseconds

Count your paces, one step to Tonedeff

You’re Gone in Sixty Seconds like Nicholas Cage is

I’ll leave you riddled with basics

There’s no need for complexity

To be beside myself I need God next to me

Just kiddin'

I’m partially bullshittin'

The only time I take a loss pussy is when I lose kittens

I pitch shit past 'ya, no matter who’s hittin'

I don’t capsize boats

But I got crews flippin'

You catch it?

The message needs analyzation

Step and your boys’ll be pouring alcoholic libations

I flew sick, you knew this

I’ll puzzle you, doofus

Fuck mentally

Stretch you into a physical Rubik’s

It’ll take more than sticker rearrangement to change it

His language is so strange, how do we contain it?

You can’t just paint this up upon the canvas

Gotta get the mental picture

To begin to understand this

So anticipate defeat, delete chances

Got your heads speared on lances

Doin' burial dances

I’m giving body language speech impediments

Each uttered threat causes confident cats to stutter-step

Cut a reputation down to sighs too raw for porn overdubs

Plate of leftovers?

Eat some warmed-over thugs

A jaded wordsmith bleeding ghostwriter’s pens dry

Getting on a rapper’s nerves, corroding dendrites

When my thoughts connect, you ought to step away fast

Seems I gave cats ADATs the way they make tracks

Forget a scare, I’m not generous, kid

Spit Society of Nimh and indent it in lids

Indie Pennant is sick and this is just a quick reminder

If you was to pick a cipher then I’ll bus your clique to Rikers

All expenses paid, no questions asked

I’ll get open in the cut and leave your flesh a gash

Can’t relax, man, the last time I took a breather

I got brought up on murder charges, start the crooked fever

Hey yo, I’m not a fella to riff with

I’m so nice Mr. Rogers sued my ass

For copyright infringement

Roll with henchmen

That will switch heads

From wanna be thugs to 24/7 bitch kids

Topping my shitlist

Producting cat bastards wantin' jiggy beats

For some wack rappers

Switch my style?

Who you tryin’a play?

My beats’ll maraud yo' ass any time of day

Like Deuce Bigalow’s chick

Whenever you do shit

People see you and holler «That's one huge bitch!»

Shit, when the LP rolls out

The Source’ll be forced to make the quotables

A three-page fold-out

No doubt, I’m fed up with this wack shit

Bombin' the next kid wearin' Abercrombie and Fitch

And any jiggy rapper actin' fly on the radio’s

Gettin' pulled out of rotation like a Firestone radial

Kashal Tee, the hip hop scene I phatten

Not even my winner’s belt keeps my jeans from saggin'

It seems I’m braggin'

But fiends been naggin' for my next release

I apply all my expertise and make 'em extra pleased

Even get the vexed appeased, I make any brother feel this

All I do is independent, like double helix

Sellin' out?

Well I hope that you’re not

But how else could you afford all the soap that you drop?

You can’t fuck wit me, yo, kid, look

Takin' me out ain’t no small feat, you ain’t Bigfoot

You should know who the heck you’re facin'

Cause my reputation leaves no room for speculation

Now battle, is that you want to do?

What kind of man are you?

I bet you sit on the urinal too

Now that it’s proven to you

They got a lot to tell us

NIMH got your heart skippin' beats like acapellas

I be a cryptic author

Writing poems on tombstones

Celph-Titled, the nigga you couldn’t bring home

I’m at the crib wit your bitch givin' me slow head

Split you up in more pieces than when Jesus broke bread

My clique is raw, be prepared when you meet us

Kill an unborn baby and you still couldn’t de-fetus (ooh)

I don’t battle with rhymes

I’d rather battle with nines

Instead of using my mind

I’d rather shatter your spine

The closest you ever came to a punch line

Was waitin' for refreshments at the prom in '89

I’m super crafty, super nasty, super raspy

Fuckin' bitches with super asscheeks

You fucking faggots don’t know what raw speech is

I beat a bitch until her whole body turn to cleavage

I’m hyperactive so I drink decaffinated

My left jab is fatal, leavin' cats decapitated